Minuteman
by aTomic18
Summary: A man who has traveled through time. Time. Not such a simple thing. Rated M for language and violence in further chapters.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Fallout or any characters within. Only OCs.**

Prologue

" _Do not go gently into that cold night…"_

 _War. War never changes._

 _In the year 1945, my great great grandfather, serving in the army, wondered when he'd get to go home to his wife, and a son he'd never seen. He got his wish when the U.S. ended World War I I by dropping atomic bombs on Hiroshima, and Nagasaki. The world awaited Armageddon._

 _Instead, something miraculous happened. We began to use atomic energy not as a weapon, but as a nearly limitless source of power. People enjoyed luxuries once thought to be in the realm of science fiction. Domestic robots, fusion powered cars, personal computers._

 _But then, in the 21st century, people awoke from the American Dream. Years of consumption lead to shortages of every major resource. The entire world unraveled. Peace became a distant memory._

 _It is now the year 2077. We stand on the brink of war. And I am afraid. For myself, for my wife, and for my infant son._

 _Because if my time in the military taught me one thing: it's that war… war never changes._

A hand rubbed condensation from a foggy mirror. As it became clearer, the mirror revealed the owner of the hand: a man in his early to mid- twenties, with lightly tanned skin, chocolate brown hair brought into a colonial-esque tie, and hazel-green eyes. He had lost a lot of weight from being confined to a hospital bed for months. The surgeons had done well to fix most of the scarring on his face, only noticeable around his mouth, brow, and a faint burn scar on the left side of his forehead from an explosion.

"War never changes."

"You're gonna knock 'em dead at the Veteran's Ball tonight, honey." A woman entered the bathroom behind the man, obviously his wife. She was of average build for a woman, with deep red hair, pale skin, gorgeous dark blue eyes, and a beautifully made-up face.

"You think?"

"Absolutely. Now get ready and stop hogging the mirror," she said with a giggle. The man exited the bathroom and headed for the small kitchen. A Mr. Handy robot hovered by the counter for a moment before bringing a pot of coffee to the island, and pouring it into a mug.

"Your coffee sir! Heated to a pleasant 173.5 degree Fahrenheit. Brewed to perfection! And today's newspaper!" the robot said in a smooth British accent.

"Thank you, Codsworth," the man said, picking up the coffee mug and taking a long sip.

"Honey! HONEY!" The woman ran out to the living room, fear on her face. "Did you take your meds today?!" The look on the man's face went from happily, to absolutely terrified.

He ran back to the bathroom and grabbed a case out of the cabinet. Inside were a multitude of syringes and prescription drugs. He took a pestle and mortar from the counter and dropped two tablets of Buffout, and a Mentat into it and crushed them up, then dissolved the contents into a vial of Med-X. He loaded the vial into the syringe and quickly injected it into his arm, sitting back and sighing in relief once the deed was done.

A ring from the doorbell alerted the man. He walked back out to the living room, and found his wife there. "Honey, can you get that? I think it's that salesman again. He's been asking for you all week." The man answered the door, and in front of him stood a rather average looking man with a tan trench coat and fedora.

"Gooood morning! Vault-Tec calling!" The salesman looked like he hated his job, but had to keep up appearances.

"Vault-Tec? Remind me again?" The man looked confused.

"Why we're about you sir! And helping secure your future. You see, Vault-Tec is the foremost in state-of-the-art, underground fallout shelters. Vaults, if you will. Luxury accommodations where you can wait out the horrors of nuclear devastation. You can't begin to know how happy I am to finally speak with you! I've been trying for days. It's a matter of utmost urgency, I assure you."

"Go on."

"I'm here today to tell you, that because of you and your family's service to our country, you have been pre-selected for entrance into the local vault! Vault 111!" The representative made a grand gesture as if to read the numbers up in front of him.

"Sounds great!"

"Oh, it is! Believe you me! Now, you're already cleared for entrance in the event of-" he cleared his throat- "total atomic annihilation. I just need to verify some information, that's all."

"Okay then." The man took the clipboard from the representative and started filling out the form. Name. That one was easy, Thomas Savage. Military statistical test results. He had taken a series of tests when he had joined the Marine Corps, each testing a different part of the body and mind. The statistics anagrammed to SPECIAL: Strength, Perception, Endurance, Charisma, Intelligence, Agility, and Luck. Thomas never understood the luck aspect. Probably because he wasn't that lucky. They had given him new results upon his discharge… after the incident.

Strength: 1. Being comatose had left his body thin, and frail. Perception: 2. He had lost some eyesight that couldn't be fixed by anything today. Endurance: 7. Well, at least he could take a hit. Charisma: 5. He certainly hadn't lost any ability to speak. Intelligence: 7. He had retained most of his knowledge, in fact he had been one of the smartest computer scientists in the Marines. Agility: 3. He wasn't the fastest person in the world, otherwise he wouldn't bear the scars he had today. Luck: 3. Definitely not the luckiest person in the world, but he felt like it every time he looked at his wife and son.

Thomas handed the clipboard back to the Vault-Tec representative. "Well that looks like that's everything! I'll just run this right on down to the higher ups. Have a nice day, and thank you for choosing Vault-Tec: Prepared for the Future!"

"Uh, thanks again!" Thomas closed the door and turned around to see his wife standing there.

"Hey, it's peace of mind. That's worth a little paperwork right?"

"For you and Shaun, no price is too high," he said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Good answer," his wife retorted. Then he heard crying. Shaun was in need of attention. Codsworth came hovering out to the living room.

"Mister Tom, I've changed Shaun's diaper, but he doesn't seem to be calming down. Perhaps he needs some of that 'paternal affection' you're always going on about." Thomas walked back to the nursery and looked into the crib. He gave Shaun a tickle on his stomach, which seemed to calm him some.

"How are my two favorite men doing?" His wife had followed him into the nursery. "Spin the mobile a bit. He loves that." Thomas did as he was told, gently giving the rocket ship mobile a spin. "You know, I was thinking we could go to the park later, get some fresh air."

"Yeah! Sounds great!"

"Uh, sir! Mum! You should come and see this!" The couple took Shaun out of the crib and went out to the living room once again. They couldn't believe what they were seeing on the television. The news anchor was talking about nuclear detonations all across the country.

"We need to get to the vault!" Thomas yelled. He opened the door and they immediately ran for the hill. They passed too many people on the way, trying to gather their belongings, struggling to get to the safety of the vault. When they came to the fence, they hurried up to the guards, who forced the Vault-Tec representative from earlier away, through threat of deadly force. He ran off, shouting about reporting the incident.

"We need to get in! We're on the list!" The military guard looked at his clipboard and flipped through a couple of pages.

"Infant, adult male, adult female… Alright you check out. Let them through!" A vault security guard ushered them to follow him.

"What about those other people back their?!" Tom's wife asked.

"We're doing everything we can! Now keep moving!" The security guard had no time to answer. "Center platform! Get to it!" They ran to the circular metal platform at the top of the hill… and waited.

"Almost there. We're going to be okay. I love you. Both of you." He could barely contain his fear.

"We love you too," his wife replied, her face completely terrified. A blinding flash, a sound like a gunshot going off right next to your ear. Then Thomas saw it. The mushroom cloud.

"Now! Now! Send it down now!"

"Hold on!" Thomas shouted. The platform started moving underground, and the cover to the vault slid closed. There were a few moments of darkness, and then the elevator stopped in what looked like another entrance to the vault, this one with a gear like door rotated off to the side.

The new residents were herded along into the vault, given radiation screenings, new "vault suits" and told to follow into the decontamination room. Thomas finally snapped out of his thoughts when Shaun started crying.

"Honey, can you help me with him?"

"Who's my little guy? I won't be going far. I'll just be over there," he tried to comfort Shaun, calm him down.

"There he is see? Daddy's not going far," his wife still sounded frightened.

"All set? Just step inside, and put on your vault suit." The doctor sounded like he was getting impatient. Surely there was no one else coming along. Not after what they had seen above ground. Thomas slipped the form fitting suit onto his body, and climbed up into the decontamination chamber. He looked across to his wife. She waved at him, and he smiled back.

He heard a robotic female voice sound off. "Resident secure. Occupant vitals: normal. Procedure complete. Decontamination in: 5." The pod started to get very cold. "4." Colder. "3." Frost began to form on the window. "2." He started getting drowsy. "1." Black out.


End file.
